Esteemed Reader

I’ve heard it said there’s a window that opens
from one mind to another,
but if there’s no wall, there’s no need
for fitting the window, or the latch.
—Maulana Jelaluddin Rumi

Esteemed Reader of Our Magazine:
I was speaking to a group of publishing professionals about the history and mission of Luminary Publishing, Inc. and Chronogram in particular. After more than an hour of talk about where we’ve been, where we’re going, and what we aim to do, the group was invited by the facilitator to pose a final question.
It was: “What do you find most fulfilling about your work as a publisher?”

There was a long silence, and a stillness in the room, as the question—pregnant with portent—came to term. I allowed myself to sense yet again my body in space seated in the chair, my feet on the floor. And I felt the presence of all those bodies before me, and the minds eager for a response. And the answer to the question was in that—in the sense and feel and cognizance of myself with others.

“It is this,” I said.

And waited to understand what I had uttered. “That is,” I continued, “connecting with others and, in this case, with you.”

And it was true. I felt the truth of it and felt grateful to the asker for eliciting an answer that made more of myself known—not only to the audience—but to myself as well.

What I find fulfilling about publishing is what I seek in every arena—connection. Of course there is always a medium. Now it is this magazine, the means by which a window opens and many minds are given the chance to share insights and visions in common.

The medium is the paper and the ink, the typography and layout, the words. But if these are the “personality”, what is the “essence” behind the mask? It is the ideas—or better yet, the meaning—which longs to be communicated. For this to be the case, the form must serve the intent, as a parent serves the growth and realization of the potentialities of the child. The structure must be an instrument for the meaning.

As soon as appearance takes precedence over substance—when how I look, for instance, becomes more important than what I am—then the instrument has failed in its mission. But we can transcend the medium at every juncture by seeking a finer means of perception. For example, in relating to another, how can I become more connected? Can I go beyond the words they speak and go further to hear the sound of their voice? And can I peer into the “windows” of their eyes and seek the core of their being?

Each finer medium affords the opportunity for greater connection—for a clearer apperception of the unity underlying all. Connection is always already here. We but need recognize it.

—Jason Stern